


Movie Night

by aerialbots



Series: A River In Space [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 06:56:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerialbots/pseuds/aerialbots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which movie night on the Mother of Invention is actually a movie date in denial, York and Carolina make it hard to stay oblivious, and North doesn't actually have a heart attack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Movie Night

He's not even sure of how he ended up in here. Or rather, he knows  _how_ , he's just not entirely sure --or sure at all-- why York and Carolina keep acting like this.  
  
A giant part of his brain insists that he's just blowing things out of proportion and seeing hints that aren't really there, but the other, smaller part can't help but notice that the room is empty except for them, there's plenty of place to sit, and still the two of them decided to sit on each of his sides and are leaning against him in a really distracting way.  
  
He's trying to focus on the movie, he really is --it's one of those really old ones he and South loved when they were kids that York managed to find during their last leave--, but York has his arm on the back of the couch and is playing with Carolina's hair, and the back of his fingers and the longer strands of her hair keep brushing against North's shoulder every few seconds. He's really regretting not choosing to wear more layers right now, because they're both really warm against him and Carolina is practically resting her head on his shoulder and it's torture and he never wants it to stop.  
  
"I stick my neck out for nobody", Carolina murmurs, affecting the lead actor's low drawl in a way that's not really accurate at all, but has York laughing into North's shoulder anyways. He can see the edge of Carolina's triumphant smile out the corner of his eye, and can't help but smile a little as well. She shifts in her seat, and she's not  _quite_  wiggling to put herself under his arm --she can't possibly be, right?--, but he still gets the feeling that he should be trying to hold her close, however wildly inappropriate that might be. So he clears his throat, and runs a hand through his hair, then folds both of them in his lap, and hopes he doesn't look as awkward as he feels.  
  
York makes some sort of noise between laughter and exasperation that North steadily ignores, but Carolina turns the tables on him again by pushing herself to lean against the armrest, and swings her legs up, and suddenly she's lying half on the previously discarded pillow York had brought from his room and half draped across both their laps, her thighs on North's and her knees just this close of pressing into his hands.  
  
North makes a really hard effort not to scream and bury his face in his palms. It works, for the most part, because growing up with South will give you an excellent poker face if nothing else, but he still wants to whine in frustration because this is entirely _unfair,_  and he half wishes he could just come out and tell them he's more than a little in love with them so they would stop touching him like this when he _can't touch back_.  
  
York simply shifts and lowers himself a little more into the couch, absolutely oblivious, his hands covering Carolina's ankles and rubbing slow little circles on the patch of skin that isn't covered by her sweatpants, and lets out a pleased little sigh as he settles down to continue watching the film. Which, incidentally, puts him in the exact same position Carolina had previously assumed --head on North's shoulder, elbow brushing against his and his breath making goosebumps appear on North's arm. He can feel the way his ribcage contracts and expands with each inhale and exhale, perfectly in sync with Carolina's, slow and controlled and were his heart not hammering like a mad elephant inside his chest North could possibly fall asleep to the sound of their breathing.  
  
As it is, he's possibly having a small fit of apoplexy, but who cares about that sort of thing, really?  
  
North hasn't felt this clumsy and hyper-aware since he turned twelve and started getting taller than everyone else in his class, but he knows over-thinking things will lead him nowhere, so he does his best to relax and enjoy the film and the company of his friends. It's not quite as difficult once York and Carolina stop fidgeting -- if anything it's the exact opposite. It's much too easy to let himself fall into the rhythm of their soft exhales, lean into the warmth of their bodies pressed against his, solid and steady and comfortable, York's wild tawny hair brushing the side of his jaw and Carolina's body half-curled into his own.  
  
He doesn't really let himself think about this, even in the middle of the night, even when he's on his own, but every single daydream or wistful thought he's had could never compare to how it feels to have them like this. Like the three of them could belong together. Like maybe... he isn't just imagining things.  
  
Moving isn't a feat on its own, but right now, as he hesitantly lifts his hand so he can curl his fingers around Carolina's where they're lying on her legs, and tilts his head just the slightest bit to the side so he can rest his cheek against the top of York's head, it feels like the hardest, most terrifying thing he's ever done. But Carolina smiles, a fleeting, almost imperceptible thing that's there and gone a second later, and York sighs again, and lets his weight rest on North's side like he isn't holding back anymore, and North could swear that he feels him nuzzling his shoulder just for a second before moving his attention back to the screen.  
  
North doesn't quite manage to stop the tiny smile that settles on the corners of his eyes, but for once he isn't too worried about it -- he thinks that maybe it's okay to let himself have what he wants, sometimes.


End file.
